


Resting Your Heart

by still_lycoris



Category: Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Depression, Exhaustion, Infidelity, M/M, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 17:47:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17329601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/still_lycoris/pseuds/still_lycoris
Summary: It's three years into the Kira case and Soichiro is incredibly tired. Matsuda wants to help ...





	Resting Your Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Written for 12dayschristmas

Soichiro was tired.

He was beginning to think that he was never going to stop being tired. It was getting harder to remember a time before it, it was almost impossible to picture a time after it. The Kira case had been going on for what else like forever, crawling on and on and on and nothing had changed – except that first Ukita, and then L had died. And L had died three years ago now.

God, he was tired.

Light told him that things would change. That things would get better. He seemed quite upbeat, given that three years had gone by. But then, he was young. He was young and healthy and had a pretty girlfriend and maybe he had the energy that Soichiro just seemed to be lacking.

He was getting old. Old and tired and losing faith in everything.

Perhaps he should have gone on holiday when Sachiko said she was taking Sayu away for two weeks for her birthday. But how could he justify that? How could he justify going on a _trip_ when the world was in such a mess? People were being murdered every day and he was on the taskforce that was supposed to be stopping the murderer. Holidays had to be a thing of the past until that was sorted out. They had to be.

He’d told Sachiko to go anyway. Insisted that they went. Told them to have a wonderful time, kissing Sayu on the cheek and told her that he’d make it up to her. She’d been disappointed, he knew but it was only right. He had to do the right thing. 

He missed them. The house was too quiet without them. Not that he was spending much time in it, if he could help it. There was so much work to do and when he couldn’t justify staying, he would usually go to the bar first. He felt a little foolish about that, drinking to avoid going home. At least it wasn’t to avoid his family. Then he would go home and fall asleep on the sofa because he disliked the cold, empty bed upstairs.

He was in the bar when Matsuda found him.

“What are you doing here?” he asked and Matsuda smiled, looking a bit embarrassed.

“I wanted to see you were okay.”

That was typical Matsuda. He would take care of anybody that he thought needed taking care of but Soichiro knew he was a special case. He was quite aware that Matsuda considered him a type of family. He was a little surprised by it – as far as he was concerned, he had treated Matsuda as he would treat anyone that came to work for him, perhaps a little more when he’d seen that Matsuda had promise that was smothered by uncertainty. To Matsuda, that had been more than enough.

“I don’t need looking after,” he said gently and Matsuda shrugged.

“You’re on your own. I bet you’re not cooking, right? Mogi said you wouldn’t be cooking ... ”

Ah. A team discussion at some point then. Well, it wasn’t untrue, he wasn’t cooking. He _could_ cook but really, what was the point of doing anything fancy when he was just there alone?

“Why don’t we go back and I’ll cook you something?” Matsuda asked, sounding bright and cheerful. “I’m not that bad, honestly! Well, you know me, if I hadn’t learned to cook, I’d probably have starved.”

“You’ll find someone,” Soichiro said because it seemed the right thing to say. “You’re a good man, Matsuda. You should believe in yourself more.”

“It’s okay,” Matsuda said with a small shrug. “I don’t mind. I mean, maybe someday, you know? I’m not exactly a catch, specially not right now. Can’t remember the last time I wasn’t working a weekend, you know?”

Soichiro felt the exhaustion drop on him again, flattening. Yes, they were working weekends. They were working constantly, it seemed. At least Matsuda was finding the energy still but then, again, he was young. Young and bright and filled with energy. He was a good man.

“Come on, Chief,” Matsuda sounded worried. “You look so tired. Everything’s going to be okay, you know? We’ll make everything all right, in the end. It’s just a ... just a rough patch.”

He didn’t want to argue so he didn’t. Instead, he let Matsuda chide him out of his comfortable chair and back to the quiet, empty house. Matsuda turned on all the lights and invaded the kitchen, filling the silence with a stream of meaningless chatter that was oddly soothing to hear. He had told Matsuda to shut up more than once while they were working but at least it meant you knew that Matsuda was all right and healthy when he didn’t stop his gentle babbling. Did he talk to himself like this when he was alone?

It was a sad sort of thought and Soichiro pushed it away.

Matsuda hadn’t lied. He wasn’t a terrible cook. Not like Sachiko but there was nothing wrong with what he produced. He pretended that he was tidying but Soichiro knew that he was being watched so he ate and drank the beer that Matsuda poured for him and tried to relax and feel comfortable, as opposed to oppressed.

“It is weird without anybody here, isn’t it?” Matsuda said, after a while. “You must miss them.”

“I do,” he said. “I miss being a family.”

He didn’t mean to say it. The tiredness and the alcohol were obviously too much. Matsuda looked stricken.

“You _are_ a family! Don’t say that! It’s just busy but – ”

“But what, Matsuda? Do you really think that it’s going to get better? We’re no closer to catching Kira than we were when L died!”

Matsuda paled and looked at the floor. Soichiro knew that Matsuda didn’t want to think about that. Matsuda believed in Soichiro and he believed in Light and working together, they would be infallible. It didn’t matter how much Soichiro told him that nobody was infallible, that things went wrong for everybody, Matsuda didn’t accept it. He saw himself as the outlier, the panicked loser in a group of calm, competent men and Soichiro didn’t know how to change that for him.

“We’ll catch him,” Matsuda whispered. “We will and it’ll be ... it’ll be fine. You’ll see, Chief. You’re just tired, that’s all. Don’t be sad. I promise, we’ll make it okay.”

He reached over, put a hand on Matsuda’s shoulder because it felt cruel, unburdening his fears on Matsuda when Matsuda so clearly believed in it all. Matsuda perked up at once, as he always died when he was touched. He smiled warmly and Soichiro had to admit, he felt a little better, despite the fact that nothing had changed and nothing was better.

“Come back tomorrow,” he said impulsively. “If you’re not doing anything.”

It doubtless wouldn’t have mattered if Matsuda had been. His face lit up and he beamed at Soichiro with what was practically pure joy. This made him useful and all Matsuda ever wanted was to be useful, particularly to the people that he cared about. Soichiro had seem him practically grow wings and fly from people complimenting his coffee.

For the rest of the week, Matsuda faithfully followed him home, cooked his meals, filled the world with pointless, yet oddly pleasing chatter. He stopped Soichiro falling asleep on the couch, made him go up to bed instead. Soichiro didn’t tell any of the others that it was happening. It seemed foolish to be propping himself up with Matsuda but he didn’t want to give it up now. It was helping, just a little. When Matsuda was there in the evenings, buzzing away, it made everything very slightly more bearable.

Which, in itself, led to a certain flicker of guilt. His wife and daughter ought to be able to fulfil that and yet perhaps, they did not. He didn’t like that. Not at all.

On the last night, Matsuda seemed a little subdued. He still chattered away but Soichiro could tell there was something a little wrong and he didn’t know what it was. Perhaps Matsuda was feeling the burden of loneliness too.

“You really ought to try and find yourself someone,” he said afterwards as he let Matsuda pour him some more beer, then sit next to him on the couch. “You’ll make a good lady very happy.”

“Oh, well ... ” Matsuda flushed a little and looked away. “There’s not really time ... ”

“You’ve found the time to help me all this week. Surely you can use that time to meet a woman? And don’t tell me that you aren’t good enough. You know as well as I do that there are worse men than you who have found a mate.”

Matsuda shrugged.

“Yeah, but I don’t know ... I’m not very ... I don’t know. My father says that I’m not very good at ... ”

Soichiro had to conceal a scowl. Matsuda’s father seemed to think that Matsuda wasn’t very good at anything. No wonder the man stumbled and had little confidence in himself. He hoped that he hadn’t ever done such a thing to Light or Sayu.

“You’ll find someone if you try,” he said firmly. “You’re a good man, Matsuda. Don’t let you life be swallowed up by work.”

“I ... no, Chief.”

Matsuda didn’t seem sure at all. Soichiro wondered why. Did he really doubt himself that much? Really think that there was nobody? Poor Matsuda. He was a good man and a good-looking man, there was no need for him to fear. Ought he push it? Matsuda did tend to listen to him, sometimes even took his words on board. 

Matsuda was playing with the glass he was holding. He looked like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. It was so unusual for him that Soichiro couldn’t think of a way to coax it out of him. Tiredness was beginning to creep over him again and he let his head lean back.

“You should go to bed,” Matsuda said quietly. “Come on, Chief. You’ll hurt your neck, sleeping like that.”

Soichiro sighed but let Matsuda help him up, just as he had before. He expected Matsuda to let him go but Matsuda didn’t. He stayed for a moment, holding Soichiro’s wrist, his mouth moving slightly, then he leaned forward and kissed him on the mouth.

It was a sweet, shy kiss and Soichiro told himself that was why he responded to it. Because Matsuda was so uncertain, so gentle and shoving him away would hurt him and he didn’t want to hurt Matsuda.

Only then, because he hadn’t pushed him away at once, the kiss deepened. Matsuda pressed closer, his body warm and solid, his hands grasping at Soichiro’s shirt. Soichiro knew that he needed to stop it, stop it now but then Matsuda would leave and he didn’t want Matsuda to leave, not like this and suddenly, the cold empty upstairs seemed colder and emptier and he felt his hands clutch at Matsuda’s arms and he knew that he had made a choice and it could not be undone.

He did not take Matsuda to his and Sachiko’s bed. The betrayal was great enough without that. He took him into Light’s room, now empty of personal belongings, just a spare room with a cold, impersonal bed. Matsuda didn’t seem to mind. He clung onto Soichiro tightly, breathless and flushed, open and eager and greedy for anything Soichiro could or would give him.

Soichiro knew that he had betrayed himself. That he had betrayed his family. He could not quite believe that it had happened – and worse was the fact that he found he could not quite bring himself to care so much as he should. He wanted to feel the shame that he knew he ought to. He wanted to dislike what he had done. But he was so _tired_.

Matsuda shifted against him, lifting his head a little.

“You can blame me,” he whispered. “It’s okay. I know it’s my fault, I don’t mind. Just don’t hate me? Please?”

“I don’t hate you,” he said because that he could not let Matsuda think that. “Go to sleep, Matsuda.”

Matsuda settled and Soichiro closed his own eyes. Perhaps he would sleep better tonight. Perhaps tomorrow morning, he could make sense of the world. Perhaps he would lose this soul-crushing weariness.

Perhaps tomorrow, Kira would simply be waiting on Light’s doorstep and let himself be sent to jail.

Soichiro closed his eyes and tried to sleep.


End file.
